


A Good Person (Is Just a Bad Liar)

by I_Cant_Write



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Deceit is a dramatic shit, Logan wants to study Deceit, M/M, Maybe a little flirting, One-sided?, Pining, hurt/comfort?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 01:32:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17889032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Cant_Write/pseuds/I_Cant_Write
Summary: Can lying be good?





	A Good Person (Is Just a Bad Liar)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey kiddos!
> 
> Not sure about how this one will go over, maybe multiple chapters if you guys like it. But my sister was facinated with the idea of Deceit being obsessed with Logan's honesty, so I wrote this.
> 
> So far, it seems one sided, but if you all want some more chapters...
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it. Sorry for Deceit being so dramatic.

“This all went according to plan…”

It had been a half-truth, when he said it. Enough of a lie to spare him the punishment.

He said his _name._

His knees buckled under him for only a split second before he regained his balance.

He uttered it like a warning, a call of arms against evil, but He said it, nonetheless.

Can lying be good?

Deceit stirs his tea with a small spoon, watching his reflection warp as the water swirls. 

Can lying…be good?

He wasn’t sure, he realized. In fact, perhaps, truthfully (if he could ever be)…he didn’t think so.

That’s why his breath caught when he saw Him. 

Because truth dripped from His lips in a shape that Deceit’s mouth could never form. His bones would scald and singe whenever he would try, so he was forced only to listen. To bathe in His honesty; a baptism of fire, watching himself burn.

He promised Deceit words that would char him to the core, but he would bathe in kerosine if he could.

That’s what he had done, right? Just to see him?

Deceit knew he was going to be caught. 

He wanted to be caught by Him. He wanted those eyes to _see him_ , if only for a minute. Deceit wanted Him to glance across his face in disgust and see him for who he truly was.

Unlike Virgil, Deceit felt that He did understand why he was good. Unlike Roman, He also understood why Deceit was bad. 

Can lying be good?

“Deceit?” Logan flipped the light on, stumbling, his glasses and hair askew, his eyes clouded with sleep, “Why are you up so late?”

“Drinking tea,” Deceit replies. It is the truth, and it isn’t.

“You cannot sleep?” Logan approaches him like someone filming a nature documentary: reluctantly, as if he’s not quite sure if the snake has fangs, “Hmm. Perhaps I could refill your cup.”

“I would rather you didn’t.”

Logan nods, a soft smirk on his lips, “Then perhaps I’ll just make some for myself, and we’ll see where that takes us?”

Logan heads out into the kitchen, and Deceit hears the flicker of a gas stove and the scrape of metal. He rises and follows him, taking a seat at the breakfast bar.

“I’m assuming you also had a very restful sleep?” Deceit absent-mindedly swishes around his cold tea, “Why are you up this early?”

Logan looks over, “Thinking about you, actually.”

Once again, he’s winded by the effortless honesty, “…me?”

“Yes,” Logan nods, leaning against the counter as he waits, “You fascinate me.”

“I…” he tries to lie well enough to keep the hope out of his voice, “…do?”

Logan tilts his head, and then pauses, turning back to adjust the stove heat as he says, “You lie, but you don’t want to. You want to tell the truth.”

Deceit hums in agreement, makes a scraping noise with his spoon on the edge of his cup, “Pity the sinner who begs for salvation, I suppose.”

“Indeed, although,” he frowns, “…a strange metaphor….” Logan’s eyes were playful as they glanced over. Deceit was a game to him. A puzzle to be solved.

Why does that look light up his insides and scorch his chest?

A moment of silence.

Logan pipes up again, “Do you ever tell the truth?”

“I…can’t,” Deceit answers warily, hoping Logan would spot the lie.

“Why don’t you, then?” Logan tilts his head.

“Why doesn’t anyone tell the truth?” Deceit shifts in discomfort, “Sometimes there’s consequences.”

Ooh, a little sting. The idea of no one telling the truth let it slide by, though.

Logan’s eyes turn soft, and cool, “I see.”

Yes, you do. _See me._

The kettle whistles, and Logan reaches for the cup. Deceit slides it over the counter, so he doesn’t have to touch him.

As Logan started pouring the cup, Deceit takes a deep breath, “I wish I was good enough for it. The truth.”

He grips his chest and sucks in a sharp breath as pain spikes through his body, searing his nerves.

“You just said the truth,” Logan whispers, spotting his physical distress, “What do you mean, you wish you were good enough?”

Deceit stares at him, as if to say, _I can’t tell you again._

“Right,” Logan nods, “Can’t tell me.”

Deceit lets his eyes fall to the floor.

“So I will leave that as another riddle to be solved,” Logan hums, “I’ll add it to my collection from you.”

Deceit actually chuckles, and catches Logan watching him laugh. He doesn’t know whether he likes his attention.

“What makes you think you’re not?” Logan says after a moment of silence.

“…Not?”

“Good enough.”

“If the sinner is good enough for salvation,” Deceit choses his words carefully, “Then why does he repent?”

Logan studies him, and nods, “A fair point, through, again, an odd metaphor. But whatever helps you say it.”

Deceit smiles softly. Odd metaphor.

“But you are good enough for the truth, because you do tell the truth, technically.”

Deceit frowns, glancing up.

“Well, you speak Thomas’ lies, and yours, against what you know,” Logan shrugs, “But not universal lies.”

Deceit tilts his head, listening to him.

“For instance,” Logan takes the pot off the stove and pours himself some tea, “When Joan received their intrusive hernia surgery, you told them that you thought they would be okay. It was a lie, because Thomas was afraid they wouldn’t be. But…” Logan shrugs, “Joan did recover, and so you told the truth. If you spoke in universal lies, you would have told Thomas to tell Joan that he thought they would die.”

That…actually makes sense.

“…Terrible point, Logan,” Deceit smirks, “I mean, seriously, did you even think that one through?”

“If I asked you, right now, to tell me how I feel about you,” Logan whispers, taking a step forward, “You could tell a lie, or a truth; only what YOU think the truth is. Because you’re not omniscient, you can’t see my thoughts.”

“And, if I asked you how you felt, then,” Deceit whispers, his entire attention focused on his lips, “What would you say?”

But Logan was too caught up in his explanation to hear anything else, however.

“But see,” Logan leans on the counter, “You told a lie from your truth. You thought my point was good, and so you lied about it. Do only those lies cause you discomfort, or does going with Thomas’ truth cause you pain as well? For instance, if I said, “How does Thomas feel about Joan?” and you said, “He adores them,” would you feel pain?”

“I don’t know,” Deceit lies, “Ask me.”

“So, yes,” Logan sighs, “Do you have any idea what causes the pain?”

Deceit worms around, trying to find a way to lie about this. It was…more inconvenient than anything. Especially since he actually wanted Logan to understand this.

Deceit grips the counter, grits his teeth, and tells the truth.

“I exist for Thomas to lie,” Deceit clenches his fingers, “And so every time I choose to tell the truth, I go against the basic principle for which I exist.”

He gasps, and his fingernails dig into the counter, “And since…no, no one will cause…. _Thomas_ to lie, if not I, if I tell the truth….and don’t do my job—“

“You die a little,” Logan nods, “Because there is nothing to perpetuate your existence without you doing it yourself.”

Deceit sucks in a breath, closes his eyes, and waits.

His brain feels like it getting run over with a freight train.

Deceit lets out gasp, and white explodes behind his eyelids, as he knew it would. He grips his forehead, digging his nails in, anything to distract from the shrieking blinding pain. He should not have said that.

When it fades gently away, he realizes he is on the floor, and Logan is holding his head. He feels his face flush with embarrassment. 

“Are you alright?” Logan whispers gently.

“…yes,” Deceit croaks, and Logan sighs.

“How can I help?” Logan runs a hand through his hair, and the pain seems to disappear with every swipe of his fingertips.

Deceit sighs and melts into his touch, and Logan seems to understand.

“Hey kiddos, what’s happenin’—oh,” Patton stops in his tracks, “You two alright down there?”

“He has a migraine headache, out of the blue,” Logan smiles up at Patton, and then glances down at Deceit, “…and he felt it was better to lie on the floor.”

“Haha, _lie_ on the floor! Good one!” Patton giggles. Logan doesn’t react, save for an eye roll.

Patton finishes the cleanup for them, and Logan faces Pat as they chat, with Deceit’s head still in his hands. Deceit only had eyes for Logan, as he realizes two things:

One, he loves it when Logan tells the truth, but

Two, the only time he ever wanted to hear a lie escape through Logan’s lips is if it was for him.


End file.
